Don't Bring Tomorrow
by Nuclotei
Summary: "All things catch up to you, even in hyperspace." The events of The Last Jedi have taken their toll and continue to spiral for Rey and Kylo Ren as their force bond continues without rhyme or reason, leaving them raw and exposed in ways neither are ready to share. (Reylo Fic, Set after TLJ, straying from canon slowly. CW-Angst, rating will go up with chapters.)
1. Chapter One

**A/N** : This started off as 4 am angsty drabble. I have no idea where it's going, but I figured I'd put it here for all of you Reylo fans. And what the heck! You killed the formatting. Thanks, Shestoolazytologin for letting me know!

 **Setting** : After TLJ, may alter some things as I go along, so not strictly canon based.

 **Disclaimer** : I wish these characters belonged to me, are you kidding? Alas, they're not mine and I only screw them up for the purpose of free entertainment for others.

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 _Don't Bring Tomorrow_

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Chapter One

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'Please…'

The plea dragged her from sleep with the gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal as her hand extended toward the phantom hand of her enemy and her eyes tore from his brown ones to the lightsaber he held instead. She would take it, to defend herself she rationalized, to save everyone else, to keep his power at bay long enough so she could persuade him to do the right thing. The right thing she knew lingered inside him, burned somewhere in his soul still split by his decisions. Wavering in light struggling not to be consumed by shadow.

It would have been okay. If she was incapable of turning him she could have forced him. Beyond that? She would do what she had to do.

She would…

Would…

Rey dropped back to the firm bed, her palms pressing to her eyes. She would have taken the lightsaber, taken advantage of his prone plea just like Master Skywalker had hovered in his cowardice to slay the sleeping boy who had been under his care.

A twisted action built on the back of the "right thing" to do like that was any kind of foundation to keep hope alive.

The end of the First Order had been an arm's length away, and she had lost. She was lost.

Not even moving rocks could fill the growing void.

There was a fury inside her that lingered in the light of her own soul, a threatening shadow twisting like a serpent, and sprung from her fingertips as she had torn the weapon from Kylo Ren's grip. And there it still lingered. Toward herself, toward Master Skywalker, toward Ben Solo.

No...not Solo.

The thought of Han had Rey curling in her bed, the covers twisted around her legs, trapping them like a vice as she focused on the pain of the fabric against her bare skin instead of the burn of helpless tears behind her closed eyes.

She'd cried too much over things that couldn't be changed.

'Please…' The memory of Kylo's voice didn't fade with the hum of the Falcon's Engines, and in the safety of the small quarters she had taken over to finally rest, she lifted her hand and breathed.

No one would know. No one would sense the path she felt the pull to go down, the temptation to rest her hand in his. No one was there but her and she took in a breath, exhaled and let her mind take the alternative. She let her hand settle on Kylo's outstretched one in the memory of the burning room on Snoke's ship. But where she had expected the cool, textured glove, she felt warmth and smooth skin as her hand sunk down through the air.

'Please…' His fragile whisper faded.

'Please don't go this way.' Her own voice spoke out from the memory then the sound around her muted.

Fear flashed through her first, violent and muscle tensing until the confusion took over. No, they couldn't have been connected by the Force. Snoke was dead, there was no one left to bridge them.

"Who is doing this?" His voice was a tired rumble, fingers twitching lightly against the underside of her wrist causing her pulse to flutter, and when she finally opened her eyes, she was greeted by his own.

They were shadowed, the hint of the bruising still under his right eye, but nothing compared to the darkness that lingered there now as his black hair stood out as starkly against the white pillow, as his dark brown eyes did against the paleness of his face.

White sheets were pulled to his waist, chest partially exposed by his position. laying on his side, facing her just as she was him, and their hands rested together on the seams of their beds that were just touching.

"You're haunting me." He accused, and she said nothing as the air backed up in her lungs in her indignation.

"That's my line." Her words were more bitter than she would have liked, snapping from her lips like the crack of a whip as she moved to pull her hand free.

His fingers closed around her wrist and palm, his hand bigger, warmer, and holding a quiet strength despite the violence she knew was in him. "Don't."

"Let me go." Her demand was met with a silent stare and she struggled not to read the look in his eyes, not to feel the surging guilt of the betrayal in them. Her betrayal, another failure. Yet he still held to her.

It was desperation, she told herself. To turn her, to figure out their location as the Falcon flashed through hyperspace, further away from him than she would have ever of been before, and yet here he was as if they were lying in bed together.

The realization made her lips part, her cheeks flush as she turned her gaze from his.

"What are you thinking?" His own voice was a demand, holding curiosity and she felt the brush of his mind against her own.

"Stay out of my head." There was a flash of panic that had her eyes coming back to his, then she was trapped in his gaze as his fingers slowly relaxed their grip.

"I see." It was said simply, and she was afraid he _had_ seen.

"I'm not telling you where we are. You're not going to find us, Master Skywalker made sure we could escape and I–…"

"Master Skywalker." Kylo cut her off with a tired scoff. "That's what you call Luke? Like he could train you, like he would even be capable of taking on someone like you." Pausing, he shifted, his fingertips sliding against her wrist once again as this time he broke his gaze from hers to let his eyes close. "He was a master of nothing, and now he's gone."

"Because of you," she felt the tears burn her throat, restricting her vocal cords. "It's all because of you. Why couldn't you just…"

As his eyes opened to gaze into her own once again the sound of the ship came rushing back, and the warmth of his hand faded away like it had never been there as the first of her tears slid a cool path down her hot cheek.

"Damn it." Rey sobbed once and brought her hands to her face to hide away from the far dim light in the room. It wasn't real, it couldn't have been real. She told herself as her skin tingled from his phantom touch.

It had been another dream.

No, a nightmare.

Brushing away her tears a faint scent of soap lingered that she had smelled once before, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

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 **A/N** : Reiterating, no idea where this is going. Could fizzle out, could become something great. Also, the length of each chapter could seriously flux.


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N** : Like I stated previously, short chapters until they're not? I'm sure they'll fluctuate as I create the story! Nothing more to be said, however…other than I appreciate you all taking the time to review!

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own these characters, I just screw them up with the purpose of entertaining others.

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 _Don't Bring Tomorrow_

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Chapter Two

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' _It's all because of you.'_ Her voice echoed in his head like he had been standing in a long chamber, bleakly lit, the accusing tone grating against something inside of him that burned, writhed in silent fury remaining unspoken as her voice faded away.

"Yes, it is." He curled his fingers into his palm, felt the tingling warmth left behind from her smaller hand and rolled onto his back.

The air in the room was thin with silence once again, as it had been when he dragged himself to his chambers, fought off his clothes and let the full stream of scalding water beat against his face, scorching the still healing scar she had given him.

It was a gift, he'd told himself the first time he braved the mirror to see the burn, the deep groove of cauterized flesh that started on his chest and snaked upward over his collarbone and even higher still. It was a stark reminder he had lost. To no one, to that girl who came from some junkheap planet with nothing but sand in the crevasses of her clothes and desperate hope.

 _Hope._ Kylo closed his eyes as he heard the word in Ben Solo's mother's voice. A weakness that he should have eradicated on his own, one he thought had been eliminated…one he closed himself off from so he wouldn't feel the last of her fade away into stardust. There was no need to feel her heart stop beating, to feel her brightness in the force simply not exist any longer. She had not been the weakness to him Han Solo had, but it had still been a mistake.

Another mistake, another lesson that he was granted to learn on his own, in secret away from Snoke's prying mind and the First Order's needs. Needs that were now his own, plans he could create, fulfill and drive to the very edges of the galaxy. It was time for old things to die, he had said, but first he needed what was left of Snoke's army to pull the very last of the rebellion to the ground. To crush _hope_ in every sense of the word.

Even though the last of the Jedi had died, the spark had withered, there was still that singular ship. That loathed reminder of Han Solo the girl claimed as her own, that flew still just to taunt him and contained too much to stand in his way.

Too much to distract him from what had been started.

No, there was no going back.

Trailing a single finger over his cheek he could almost hear that girl's cry of fury towards him. One as determined as the shouts she had shown the Praetorian Guards as she cut them down. He thought of the look in her eyes the first time he invaded her mind, to the look in the snow, flashing red and blue as the world crumbled around them.

In the moments of that battle, as he felt his blood drain from the wound in his side, as he fought through wave after wave of nausea, the cold sweat that threatened to freeze on his clammy skin, he remained fierce, determined. The traitor, FN was nothing, struck down without effort, but the girl…

The girl who stumbled, who struck out with her entire form, who cried out in her desperation in each careless strike towards him, only pulled at his curiosity. And something else inside of him that was drawn toward her.

Splaying his fingers across his face he shielded his eyes from the light above him, breathed evenly against his palm as he fought sleep, fought the lull toward the quiet oblivion. He wasn't ready to let go of the wispy remains of the girl he could feel in his mind, of the mental image of her deep brown eyes spewing hatred, wavering with her confusion, solidifying with her determination, and softening with her acceptance.

They spoke to him as the Force did, they told him what he couldn't see in her mind, what she tried to hide away. Those eyes were the gateway to his salvation, her extended hand, what would pull him into the light by her side.

But in the snow, in the darkness of the woods where the cold wind burned the skin, where she pulled the force, gathered it inside of her and used it against him, he saw the crack in her soul. There lurked anger, hate, bound together by the Force around her as she struck him again and again. It had felt like waves of electricity, burning through him, melting his resolve, weakening his tired body as he stumbled, as he made mistake after simple mistake—like a rookie caught in the gravity of a prodigy. And when he fell and she stood over him, he knew that his equal in the light also felt the darkness.

And it was darkness he could feed.

Outstretching his hand toward the ceiling, he curled his fingers around the light above him as the pressure grew in the air. The container rattled as the Force bound it at his command, wrapping around his desire like heat waves from a desert mirage, then it cracked, splintering until the brightness within it was exposed.

It was darkness he could draw out of her.

Closing his fingers in towards his fist, the light imploded and left him in the shadows as the blue lines of hyperspace flashed by the singular window of his room.

It was darkness she would be consumed by, as he was. Creating a new equal, a new destiny, void of the balance a broken Jedi and the dead Supreme Leader spoke of.

He had seen it when they touched, and now it was only the matter of time between them that kept them apart.

And whoever had bridged them once again gave him another gift…because now, not even the stars could get in his way.

Closing his eyes, Kylo let his hand fall back to the bed where the lasting tingle of Rey's touch remained as his mind gave into sleep, and the last sound that came to him was her pleading voice, a whisper in his mind.

' _Please don't go this way.'_

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 **A/N** : And which way is this story going? I really have no idea either, but it'll be fun to see! Thanks again to those who review, you give me new writing life and inspiration!


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N** : Here's a random update for you! I still really have…no clue where this is going guys, it's just short blips so far with no purpose. Maybe it'll all come together someday! Sorry for any typos!

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own these characters, I just screw them up with the purpose to entertain others.

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 _Don't Bring Tomorrow_

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Chapter Three

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They stared at each other from across the bed, him sitting with his feet on the floor, his covered torso turned toward her, his hair a mess from bed, her sitting with her back against the cold metal wall, her knees drawn to her chest as she watched the flash of stars dance across his scarred face.

"It's you, isn't it?" Rey accused him, wrapping her arms around her knees, curled up protectively without a thought in her head that it was a childish position. Weaker in the face of someone more brutal than she.

His eyes left hers soundlessly, searching the long window, gazing out into hyperspace and it made her stomach flutter in panic. What if he could see something she couldn't?

He was vastly trained in the ways of the force, both from the light and the dark, what if he could look through the blue and see a map of the stars?

"Kylo," she bared her teeth at him as she snapped his name, hoping to startle him into refocusing on her, startling herself. "Answer me."

He glanced at her, then pushed up from the bed, towering above the single mattress, and she could feel it move as she tipped her head back to keep her eyes on his face. It was distracting, his broad shoulders, the skin-tight black of his long-sleeved shirt, his black pants. One word kept whispering through her mind when she saw him—beautiful. Beautiful and terrifying, something she had never seen before in her life, certainly not on the dusty planet of Jakku.

…a monster in the skin of a prince.

She felt the space between them, only five feet apart but as wide as a galaxy, wider still when he spoke, his shoulders straightening until he was looking down his nose at her.

"You wanted to see me," he accused. "There's no reason to pretend that it wasn't you who sent out for me, I know the truth, now." When his gaze moved to her tear stained pillow then her pinked cheeks, she felt shame boil up inside of her, churn into anger.

"So you were spying on me?" When she stood, it was a scramble, far from his graceful movement as she untangled her feet from the sheets where they landed on the frigid floor. "Are you that desperate?" Haughty, that's how she sounded as she squared up to him, close enough that the scent of his soap tickled her nose again, and she was sure she could feel his body heat radiating between them.

"Desperate?" His face was stoic with the question, lips parted as if he wanted to say something else with it, then he shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "The only thing I am desperate for is sleep, girl." He advanced, his form hulking as she backed up one step, then another. "But you were incessantly calling, your voice breathless, little cries spilling from your lips as you gripped your pillow and invaded my mind." The gap closed between them until her body swayed to keep their chest from touching, to keep her back from brushing the wall in a delicate balance. She could breathe in his anger now, the heat of it washing over her in waves.

"I—…"

"No matter how much you cry," a finger came up, brushing against her cheek and she could feel the dried trail from her tears rub against her skin from the friction. "No matter how much you have hope," he spat out the word like it was poisonous. "No one will come back. Not for you, not for anyone. That is not how this universe works."

She jerked her head to the side petulantly, her lower lip quivering as she swallowed the tears and let the rage bubble up. "I wasn't crying for you, I would _never_ cry for you." It took nothing to look him back in the eyes, she wanted to see his, how they'd widen. She wanted to see how much she could hurt him like he hurt everyone else in that moment. "No one would ever cry for you." The words were bitter, and they rolled off her tongue with hate.

When his large hand clamped over her mouth, fingers like steel digging into her cheek, his thumb pressing in to hold her still she jerked back, would have knocked her head against the wall if it wasn't for the way he held her face.

"See? Do you see how easy it is to give in?" He leaned down so they were eye level, and she could wholly feel his anger now, her gaze trapped by his as she breathed harder through her nose. "Hate me, be angry, let your fury build…it's what makes you stronger." His hand jerked, shook her just enough that she grabbed his wrist with both hands to keep herself from wavering. His words should have pulled her from her ire, she knew—it was just a manipulation, but she couldn't calm her raging heartbeat, not with him so close, not with him silencing her.

"Luke is _gone_ , you need a real teacher," his words were a soft hiss, ones she had partially heard before. "I can teach you things beyond what your mind could ever imagine." When his eyes fell to his hand on her mouth, hers fell to his lips, the way they parted. She wondered what his anger tasted like…and that jarred her enough to have her eyes widen.

He stared, his eyes now searching her face, confusion furrowing his brows, then a dawning understanding that began deep within his eyes. His hand dropped to her throat, soft fingers sliding down her neck and she could feel the callouses from his lightsaber scrape across her skin.

Her breath hitched.

"I—I lied…," Rey blurted it out as his thumb brushed her collarbone, remained there and he seemed to disconnect from whatever thoughts he was having to focus back on the present.

He said nothing, so she continued.

"Your mother," it came from her in a rush, the parting of lips, the dance of a tongue driven by nerves. "She would cry for you, she has cried for you." He let her go then, was backing away like distance would silence her. "Look, if you would just give her a chance, talk to her…" The air between them vibrated, shifted as he started shaking his head. "She's your mother, there isn't anything in this universe that she couldn't—"

"No!" He shouted, cutting her off and he was gone, the hum of the engines filling her room once again.

Rey stepped forward, did a slow turn of her room that somehow seemed colder as she looked for what had never really been there.

Fingers quivering, she brought them to her mouth, brushing them down her neck as she sat down slowly on her bed.

Had she called him…?

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 **A/N** : I think I've figured out where this is going. Yay! Leave me a review!


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